An ode to two girls | Karmishtha Krishna

The following poem by Karmishtha Krishna from Pune was selected as a commendable mention in Wingword Poetry Prize 2020

This is not a poem.

It is a vivid memory of two girls from 2004

One nearly five, the other nearly six

One with a bob cut, the other with a tight oily braid

One who hated going to school

And the other, who never had a chance to.

One was me, the other was our helper’s daughter

We spent our days

Dancing around a white wooden table on a green grassy lawn

Nurturing a friendship that was too difficult for others to imagine.

 

 ‘Two polar opposite DNA strands can’t helix up together’, they said

‘Those who can afford new clothes every month mingle only amongst themselves’, they said

And so, she began to mingle with only those

To whom the fortunate ones donated their old clothes

And so, I gradually stopped sitting by the glass window

Waiting for her to come by holding her mother’s old, ripped saree

Waiting for her mother to salute mine and watch the mothers scowl

As we galloped to our little corner -

But before I knew it, it was all over.

I moved on and made new friends every dusk

And began sipping from porcelain teacups

And she, was sent to Nepal

For a more ‘disciplined’ upbringing

And sadly, I have nothing more to recall.

 

But this, is not a poem.

It is a painful memory of two friends from 2004

Who were scarred by differences in privilege

Which I, a child of the gentry refused to remember

Until I heard that she’d come back in 2018.

And I ran to the glass window once again

To get just a glimpse of my long-lost friend

And there she was.

Brown and beautiful as ever, with her tight oily braid

I saw the child in her alive

The little fingers tightly grasping an old, ripped saree

But wait –

It wasn’t her smile, it was her child’s.

She was now a mother.

 

Let me remind you -  that this, is not a poem.

It is a memory of two coming of age girls from 2018

I, who carried the weight of board exams

And cribbed about the heavy burden

And she, who carried the weight of a baby and an abusive husband

And silently swallowed all her pain

This is a memory of the day

When two childhood friends met after fourteen years

Through a glass window

That somehow didn’t shatter that day -

With screams that echo

When they cross each other in the colony even today

Without a smile, or a word.

 

You see, this is not just a poem.

This is an ode to two girls from 2004

Way before one of them

Was any different from the other.